


Travelling Solider

by gatergirl79



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Vietnam, Inspired by Music, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:22:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatergirl79/pseuds/gatergirl79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek’s being shipped out to Vietnam but decided to make one last visit to Beacon Hills, the home he’d left years before after his family’s death. Waiting for the bus back to camp, he stop in at the local diner and meets a far too cheerful Stiles Stilinski. Feeling lonely and scared Derek ask Stiles to write to him while he’s away and a long distance romance blooms. Until Stiles discovers that Derek’s been Killed in Action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been on my mind about as long as Swing was. But Swing was the first one I decided to put down and now tonight I needed to get this out of my head so I could concentrate on the actually full length fic I'm writing. This is also based on a song. The Dixie Chick's - Travelling Soldier. It's a really beautiful song and I totally recommend it if you haven't heard it. I'd originally planned on it being a one-shot but I think it's going to be at lest two chapters, maybe three. I'll get the next chapter up as soon as possible. Hopefully tomorrow night. Because like I said I won't be able to finish my actual Teen Wolf fic while this is buzzing around my head. 
> 
> I'm English so I know nothing. Absolutely nothing about how the American military words so your'll have to forgive me for the artist licence.
> 
> Hope you like.  
> This hasn't been beta'ed sorry.

 

This was not how Derek had expected to spend the first few days of his eighteenth year on earth, waiting for a bus out of Beacon Hills. He should never have come back; he'd known it was a bad idea. He’d known it was going to hurt. He hadn’t been home since he was sixteen, when he’d run away. Away from the crumbled ruins of the fire, away from the broken shell of his uncle. - Away from his mistake. But things were different now. His only living, well when he said living he meant his own conscious member of his family had been killed three months ago in a car accident, not that he’d spoken to Laura in years. He’d never been able to face her after the fire. He didn’t want to see the betrayal in her eyes. So now he was all alone, with only one real option left to him.

He tugged at his uniform. It felt so strange wearing it, the starched sleeves rubbing harshly against the skin on his arms. He glanced around hoping for any sign of his bus despite knowing he had hours to wait. He hadn’t thought this through really. He come here for a reason he didn’t really understand, he’d just felt the pull to see the place just in case. To visit the graves of his family. To apologize to his comatose uncle. All he’d really done though was spend twenty minutes staring up at the blackened shell of his house before deciding it had been a bad idea to come back her, and headed back to the bus stop. Sadly the next bus wasn’t for another four hours.

Rubbing at his neck Derek got to his feet and began to pace, his heavy black boots slamming hard against the flag stones beneath his feet, creating an echo. He couldn’t do this; just stand here for four hours. Bending down he lifted his pack and headed in the direction of the diner. He hadn’t been in Martin’s Diner since he was sixteen, and he doubted anyone would remember him. Especially now. That didn’t stop most of the customers stopping to stare at him, making him feel uncomfortable. But that probably had more to do with him being in uniform than his sudden prodigal son routine. Taking a breath and ignoring the stares and smiles from the patrons, Derek made his way to the far end of the diner, slipped into the booth and waited for a waitress to come serve him.

 

**~Sterek: Travelling Solider~**

 

Stiles was crouched sweeping up the sugar he’d just split all over the floor behind the counter when the place suddenly got eerily silence. Frowning he peeped up over the top to see a tall dark handsome guy in a uniform stepping inside. He narrowed his gaze at the man because something was familiar. He stared at the solider looked around awkwardly then marched past him to the last empty booth. Standing up, Stiles dropped the sugar he’d scooped up into the trash can beneath the counter and turned to see Scott staring out from the kitchen, watching the guy with that look on his face. It the look he’d been getting a lot lately, ever since he’d started dating the new girl Allison. It was that disgusted look.

You see Allison was a total hippie in training, utterly against the war. She’d called it a crime and barbaric and it hadn’t taken much to brain wash Scott into thinking the same way, because Scott wanted to date her and he didn’t have a mind of his own in general and he was sixteen with the hormone levels of an ally cat, so Stiles couldn’t exactly blame him. - But at the same time, Stiles didn’t really think it was right to treat surviving soldiers like criminal either. After all he knew criminals, real one. His dad was the Sheriff for god’s sake. Soldiers were just…soldiers. Following the orders of their commander and chief, they weren’t really in a position to turn around and say _screw you I’m not doing that_. He’d pointed that out to Allison once and had almost lost an eye to her flailing arms has she’d yelled no one made them join up. Stiles hadn’t made the mistake of talking politic with her since.

"I can’t believe that guy." Scott huffed with disgust. "He should feel ashamed of himself."

Stiles turned to send his friend a hard look before turning back to the guy in the booth. "He’s just…" he didn’t bother finishing what he was going to say for two reasons, one: there was no point, Scott - Allison-brain Scott - wouldn’t have listened anyway. And two: Scott was heading back to the fryers. Sighing Stiles grabbed his pad in one hand and the coffee pot in the other then made his way over to the booth.

He paused beside the table and the soldier didn’t even look up, he simply turned the empty mug upright and waited for Stiles to pour. When the cup was filled Stiles place it on the table to free his writing hand. "So what can I get you?"

The guy reached for the menu and stared at it. Stiles took the time to look the guy over and then kicked himself. He’d got to stop doing that so publicly, unless he wanted to get the hell kicked out of him, but it was kind of hard not to check the soldier out. He was a good looking guy with the sharp cheek bones and the solid jaw that was covered with a thin five o’clock shadow. Like he’d forgotten to shave that morning. When the guy turned to look up at him, Stiles dropped his gaze instantly and scuffed his shoe against the polish tiles of the diner floor. He glanced up through his lashes to see if the guy was still staring at him and found he had gone back to the menu. He rolled his shoulders and huffed a breath, his head turning to look around the diner. "Any time you're really buddy." he said under his breath.

"What?"

Stiles head turned back with a snap. "Huh? What?"

The soldier narrowed his gaze at him. "You said something."

Stiles looked around, like the guy was talking to someone else. "Huh? Nope. Nothing. Just standing here silently."

The guy huffed and well that might have even been a growl. It was something that sent a shiver down Stiles spine and into his pants. He swallowed hard and tried not to look at the guy. He dropped eyes to the floor and caught sight of the bag beneath the table, thick black letters printed on its side. **D.HALE** and his breath caught in his throat and his head snapped up and he met the guy’s eyes. Suddenly it all came back to him and he knew exactly who was sat in front of him. _Wow, he’s changed_. He doubted anyone in the place would know who he was.

"Hey." the soldier snapped his fingers in front of his face.

"Oh, huh…yeah, sorry." Stiles grinned brightly. "What was it?"

"Pancakes."

"Really? You sure?"

"Are they no good?"

"Nah, I mean yeah there good. There great. Best in the state. I just…well I figured you’d want something more….filling. You’re a big boy…soldier after all. All that running and shooting and…." _oh god Stiles shut up now_. _You can’t flirt with the soldier_. _Are you trying to get yourself beaten up? Jesus_. "Pancakes. Got it." Stiles nodded, picking up the coffee pot he turned on his heels and rushed away. Hoping that the ground would open up and swallow him. It was better than getting himself killed. What the hell was he thinking? Flirting with the guy. With any guy. In public. Jesus.

He stopped at the counter to rest the pot before heading for the window that separated the kitchen and diner. "Hey Scottie, pancakes for your new worst enemy!"

Scott turned to glare at him before going about his work. Stiles took the time to wipe down the counter and poor some more coffee for Mr Lehey, the ex-swimming couch who always looked at Stiles like he knew. But he couldn’t know. No one knew. Not even Scott knew. - Well, okay Danny knew, but only because he was in the same position. It wasn’t exactly easy being…that way inclined in a small town in 1970. Maybe one day it wouldn’t be a problem. At least that’s what him and Danny told themselves. That one day they’d be allowed to check out the new mechanic at the garage or the star player on the lacrosse team - who just so happened to be Danny’s best friend Jackson and not like Stiles had any desire to check him out because Jackson was a jerk of the first order and Stiles always wondered how Danny put up with him. - And maybe one day he’d be allowed to check out the good looking soldier in the end booth without fear of having his throat ripped out. 

"Hey, Stiles!"

Stiles started at the yell from behind him and turned to see Scott staring at him with a raised brow and a plate of pancakes. Stiles shook his head to rid himself of optimistic and ultimately depressing thoughts and headed over to Scott.

"Here."

Stiles took the plate but didn’t move to leave; he looked at his friend, leaning forward. "Hey you know who that is?"

"You mean other than a murde…."

"That’s Derek Hale dude." When Scott looked at him blankly Stiles rolled his eyes. "He’s like a few years older than us. His whole family were killed in a fire like three years ago. - Well not the whole family, his uncle's in a coma and his sister was killed in that bus crash three months ago." Stiles was glad to see the sympathy seep into Scott features, temporarily blocking out the Allison-anti-war-ness.

"Oh."

"Yeah he ran away after. My dad had people out searching for him for like a week."

"So what’s he doing back?" Scott frowned.

Stiles glanced over, his face sorrowful. "I don’t know." he sigh before taking the plate and walking towards him.

Derek looked up when Stiles dropped the plate down in front of him. "There you go wolf-man." The soldier looked up at him with a raised brow and a tight jaw causing Stiles to chuckle. He poked at the insignia on Derek’s sleeve with a wide grin and the guy dropped to look where Stiles finger was lingering. Swallowing hard Stiles yanked his hand way. "Well, huh. Enjoy." he moved to leave only to have large calloused fingers grab his wrist. He glanced down and followed them up to the stern yet embarrassed face of Derek Hale. The guy pulled his hand back like it had been burnt.

"Huh…" he stuttered. "Coffee."

Stiles smiled. "What about it."

"I…I’d like some more."

Stiles didn’t move; he just stared down at him, still smiling.

"Please." Derek growled out, dropping his gaze to his pancakes.

Stiles chuckled as he headed to the counter for the pot; strolling back he refilled the mug, his eyes flickering from the white cup to the stern soldier.

"Thanks."

Stiles chuckled. "Appreciation is best expressed in tips."

"Huh…" Derek kept his eyes locked on the plate in front of him and Stiles had to fight to grin even wider.

"You…wanna…." Derek cleared his throat, glancing up through his lashes. "…sit." he whispered shyly.

That was it; there was no holding the grin back now, or the flirting for that matter. "Sorry wolf-man, love to but…" he nodded behind him. "…working."

Derek huffed and nodded.

"But I…." Stiles glanced behind him to make sure no one was watching them. "…get off in an hour. I….know somewhere we could go if….well, you want."

Derek didn’t look at him, he just shrugged his shoulders and kept eating, and Stiles was a little confused if that was a yes or a no. He waited a few more seconds but there was still no sign of confirmation or rejection so he clenched his jaw, shrugged his shoulder and headed back to the counter. Kicking himself for giving into stupidity. He’d probably just shown his hand and was going to get jumped and beaten the second he left the diner. Which would lead to questions from his dad. Questions he couldn’t answer without causing the man pain and humiliation.

 

**~Sterek: Travelling Solider~**

 

"You heading to Allison’s?" Stiles asked as he shrugged into his jacket. He knew it was a stupid question and had no idea why he even asked.

"Yeah. Got to study for mid-terms."

Stiles wasn’t an idiot and he didn’t know why his best friend treated him like one. He knew exactly what they were going to be doing. Not to mention Mid-Terms were still a month away. But he’d played alone. "Cool. Well I’ll see you at school on Monday."

"Okay."

Stiles stepped out of the diner and took a deep breath before starting to walk along Main Street. It didn’t take him long to realize he was being followed, like he’d said he was the Sheriff son. He had instincts about these things. He slowed his pace a little before pausing in front of a store front. If he wasn’t being followed whoever was behind him would keep walking. And if he was, well at least he’d have witnesses if anything happened. He swallowed hard as he felt someone stop beside him, his heart leaping into his throat. He didn’t turn his head, didn’t want to start anything.

"So, you said you knew somewhere?"

Stiles head snapped around at the sound of that deep voice. His eyes widening. Derek didn’t meet his gaze, his eyes fixed on the store window. "I…you’re not going to try and kill me are you? I mean if I take you…somewhere, you're not going to beat me up and leave me there to die, cause if that’s your plan I should warn you that my dad’s the Sheriff and I was just like…being friendly back there."

Derek finally turned and stare at him with hard green eyes, his jaw tight once again. "I…just…" he shrugged. "I’m not going to kill you. I just…I’m feeling a little low and could use someone to talk to."

Stiles brows drew together. "Me? You want to talk to _me_? - Huh, well…I…" he looked around himself, once again unsure if Derek Hale was actually talking to him. Cause yeah Stiles could talk, but people tended to want him to not talk. "Alright." he nodded. "As long as you promise not to kill me wolf-man."

"Will you stop calling me that?"

Stiles smirked. "Would you prefer Sour-wolf? Or maybe Grumpy-wolf? Or…"

"Shut up."

"I thought you wanted to talk?" Stiles smiled warmly.

"I…" he looked at his polished boots.

"Come on." Stiles nodded his head in the direction he’d been walking and moved away from the shop front. Listening to for the sound of Derek’s booted feet behind him and grinning at his shoe when he hears them.

It takes them almost ten minutes to get to the small lake on the edge of the forests. Stiles knows it’s not far from the remains of the Hale estate which means Derek’s probably been here before. He drops down on the end of a small peir and yanks his shoes and socks off, rolling up the legs of his pants before letting his feet dip into the slightly cold water, and just waits. It doesn’t take long for Derek to join him, boot free, with his calves bare. Stiles can’t help but notice the soft layer of dark hair and the toned muscle. He swallows hard and forces his gaze back to the water.

"So." Derek sighed. "I…didn’t catch your name."

"Stiles. - Stiles Stilinski." he can feel Derek staring at him. "I know, but trust me, my real name is worse. And no I’m not telling you it. No one but my dad knows it and that’s how it’s staying."

"Huh. Well I’m…."

"Derek Hale. I know."

Derek frowned at him. "How?"

"Well…" Stiles grins looking back at him. "…like I said, my dad’s the Sheriff, he taught me a few things. Like how to read." he chuckles waving back to where Derek had dropped his bags.

The soldier rolled his eyes. "That’s cheating."

"No. That’s being observant. - Besides I knew I recognized you when you walked into the diner, I just put the two together to come up with the answer."

Derek frowned. "You recognized me?" he asked with slight panic to his voice.

"Sheriff’s son." Stiles stated; giving Derek a meaningful look and hoping it would be enough. It was.

"Right." Derek sighed, turning to gaze out over the water.

The pair sat in silence, just watching the sunlight on the rippling water. Oddly comfortable. The sounds of their breathing and nature all that passed between them for almost an hour before Derek finally spoke up. "So…you got a girlfriend?"

Stiles head shot around, his brow raised. "Huh. No." he shook his head. "There’s a girl, Lydia that I…."

Derek turned to stare at him doubtfully. "A….boyfriend?"

"Huh?" Stiles gapped, his back straightening nervously. "Do I…I ain’t no fag. I…"

Derek stared at him. Well it was more of a soul searching glare than a simple stare and Stiles shifted against the wood beneath his ass.

"I bet you’ve got a boyfriend." Derek whispered.

"I…I…"

"I don’t care." Derek added, looking out to the water once more, sadness on his face that Stiles knew all too well.

"Well that’s…. _good_."

The silence returned, the pair just sitting there. Stiles glanced down at his lap and noticed his hand was gripping the edge of the pier, and right beside it was Derek’s hand, so close it was almost touching. All he’d have to do was move it just a little. Just the smallest amount.

"I should go." Derek suddenly said, jolting Stiles from his thoughts.

"Huh? But I thought you wanted to talk?"

Derek was getting to his feet and Stiles quickly scrambled after him. Watching as the soldier dropped to the ground to slip his socks and boots back on.

"I can’t miss my bus."

Stiles sighed sadly, stood motionless. "Right. Yeah. Sure." he nodded.

Then Derek was in front of him. Too close in front of him. If they weren’t almost the same height Stiles would say he was towering over him. As it was they were practically on eye lever with each other. _And what eyes_. Stiles thought, because they really were a beautiful shade of green.

"I got no one to send a letter to." Derek said quietly, dropping his eyes to Stiles naked feet. "Would you mind if I sent one back here to you?"

Stiles gaped up at him, his brown eyes wide in the sunset. "Huh, sure. Yeah, that would be…cool."

Derek nodded and headed back to his pack.

"Wait, you need my address." Stiles said, rushing over to Derek.

"I…" he dropped down next to the pack and opened it up, pulling out a pen and a small note book, handing it over to Stiles. "Here."

Stiles took his time to write his address as clearly as he could. Not wanting to rush it and mess it up, make it unreadable. When he was finally done he swallowed hard and handed it back, their fingers brushing slightly as Derek took it.

"I…I’ve got to go."

"Sure." Stiles nodded, watching as Derek flung his pack over his shoulder and turned, taking a few paces away. "Derek!" Stiles called slightly breathlessly when he was a few feet away.

Derek turned with a raised brown.

Stiles inhaled deeply needing the oxygen to speak. "Be careful, okay."

Derek’s lip curled at the corner. "Yeah. Bye….Badr."

Stiles stared opened mouthed as Derek vanishes into the woods, his heart racing. How did he know? How could he know? No one knew.

 

**~Sterek: Travelling Solider~**

 

The first letter arrived a week later from an army camp in southern California. Stiles heart had leapt into his throat when his dad had handed the thing to him over breakfast.

"Stiles?"

He looked up from his cereal to meet his father confused and somewhat concerned look. "Yeah?"

"Why do you have a letter from…" he paused to re-read the envelope. "….Derek Hale? Since when do you know Derek Hale? How do you know Derek Hale?"

Stiles smile faltered and he leapt out of his chair to snatch the letter from his father’s hand. "I…he came into the diner a week ago and we started talking." he stared down at the envelope, his heart pounding. "He asked if he could write to me."

"Why?" the Sheriff frowned.

"Because he doesn’t have anyone else. - And I think he’s freaked out about…" he waved the letter a little in front of his dad, so he could see the military stamp. "…going to war."

Stiles looked at his dad’s frowning face. Concern etched into every line. Sighing Stiles told him as much as he thought he could handle. He waited for his dad to tell him he shouldn’t be doing this.

Derek had been a suspect for a while in the fire that had killed most of the family, and the boy running away hadn’t made him look any less guilty. Frankly they were pretty sure if it hadn’t have been for a witness saying that Derek was across town at the time he’d probably be on the most wanted list. As it was he was just a missing person. Except he wasn’t missing anymore because Stiles knew exactly where he was. And now so did his father.

"Is he….alright?"

Stiles stared at his dad with surprise. He totally hadn’t expected that one. "Huh, yeah. I guess. Considering."

The Sheriff nodded. "He knows about his sister."

Stiles shrugged sadly. "I guess so. He didn’t say anything exactly, but he said he had no one to write to so….I assumed he knows."

The Sheriff looked at his son for a long moment, just watching him. Looking at him deeply like he was searching for something. Then he nodded and turned to leave. "I’m on the late shift tonight."

Stiles stood gaping at the now empty space where his father had been. He’d expected more of a fight. More questions. _Strange_.

Shaking off the weirdness of his father’s reaction Stiles quickly cleaned away his breakfast things and headed for his room to read his letter. Dropping down on his bed, his back pressed against the headboard he tore into the envelope and yanked out the letter. It was only one sheet but what did he expected an essay.

 

_Dear Stiles._

_Well I’m here and still alive, though I’ll admit I think death would be the better option right now. The first week of boot camp has been hell on earth, I’ve never ached so much in my life. I swear I’ve discovered muscles I never knew I had, and they hurt. Hope your well. Have to admit I don’t really know what to write. It’s not like my life is full of adventure right now. It’s kinda the same routine day in, day out. Getting up at the ass-crack of dawn, training, lunch, training, dinner, and bed and all over again the next day. At least its not raining I guess. It could be raining._

_Well, hope to hear from you soon._

_Derek_

 

Stiles grinned down at the awkward short letter for a long moment, the image of Derek running around an assault course getting sweaty filling his mind. Pushing himself off his bed he strolled over to his desk and sat down to reply.

 

**~Sterek: Travelling Solider~**

 

Derek sat back in his bunk staring down at his letter, unsure whether to open it. He knew it was from Stiles, he’d seen the name on envelope but what was inside terrified him. What if he said he’d changed his mind, that he didn’t want Derek to write to him.

"Letter from your girl?" Boyd asked from the bunk a few feet away.

Derek hated the way his heart skipped at the question and was really very glad that no one could hear it. He knew it was ridiculous to have such a reaction for a billion reasons, mainly that he’d only spent a few hours with Stiles. And while he’d slightly remembered him as a gangly kid, it was hardly anything to base feelings on. - But there were feelings. Odd feelings that made his irritable and calm at the same moment. "No. Just a friend from my home town." Derek finally replied.

"Shame." Boyd huffed, turning his attention to something else and allowing Derek to concentrate on his letter.

He opened it carefully and pulled out the paper like it was the Holy Grail. Unfolding it he inhaled sharply at the greeting.

 

_Hello Wolf-man._

_So, first things first. How the holy hell did you know my name? I’ve been waiting a week to ask you. It’s been driving me crazy. You have no idea._

Derek chuckled to himself. He could still see the shocked, confused and somewhat angry look on Stiles face when he’d called him by his given name. He hadn’t even realized he knew it until it hit him while they were looking out over the water. Somehow he’d just remember an incident. He’d been in the woods surrounding his house and he’d heard a woman calling out a weird name. He’d gone to investigate and found Mrs Stilinski looking for her wayward ten year old son who’d apparently decided to play hide and seek in the wood without telling anyone. Which was technically just hide. Derek had offered to help find him and listened as she’d called for him. It had taken them twenty minutes to find the kid in a tree on the outskirts of the woods.

_So you're going to tell me how you know, because no one but my mom and dad know that._

 

And him.

 

_Now that’s out of the way. It’s nice to know that your discovering all kinds of new and useful things about your body._

 

Derek gaped at the words. Was he. Seriously he couldn’t write that.

 

_Maybe you could use it when you get back. Maybe take pre-med or something._

 

Derek closed his eyes and took a breath, wishing his heart would stop racing.

 

_I’m sure your having tons of adventure. Like making friends. You do know how to do that don’t you? I mean you haven’t scared everyone off with your grumpy wolf scowling. Cause you need to make friend Derek. I mean who’s going to keep your damn ass in one piece if you don’t have friends? And what’s the deal with complaining about your life being boring? Do you remember what it’s like to live here? The most excitement we’ve had over the past week is that Lydia broke up with her boyfriend, Jackson. - Oh, no wait, no there was a mountain lion attack like Thursday. Dad’s had the whole sheriff’s station out looking for the thing. Scott’s still complaining about the war. I don’t know if he means or even understands any of the shit he says honestly. I think he just listens to Allison and then repeats it back like a fucking parrot or something._

 

Derek frowned a little confused. Who were these people?

 

_Dad kinda knows I’m writing to you. I expected him to freak out, but he was well, cool about it. Except. Well he wasn’t sure if you knew. Man, I don’t know how to ask this. If you knew about your sister. I figured you did. I mean you wouldn’t be writing to me if you didn’t right. But yeah. Sorry about that. She was really nice._

 

Derek swallowed hard.

 

_So. What else to say. Your right man, this is really weird. But I’m sure its just because we don’t really know what to talk about. But we’ll get there. Right? I mean it’ll get easier. Soon we’ll be writing back and forth like we’ve know each other for years. So anyway I’ll go now. Write soon OK._

_Stiles._

_PS: Derek, don’t get hurt._

 

Derek let out a slow exhale and closed his eyes. Rubbing at the bridge of his nose. His heart still racing manically.

　


	2. Chapter 2

"What’s this?"

Stiles head shot around to stare wide eyed at his friend as Scott lifted the letter from his desk. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as he watching his best friend’s eyes scanning the letter. Stiles heart leapt into his throat and he kicked himself for leaving it in plain sight. A shiver went through him as he remembered what the letter said. He’d read it over and again the last few days, not sure if Derek had really meant what Stiles thought he meant, but it was kinda….well…

Scott was looking at him, staring wide eyed and confused, and not saying anything. Stiles knew that look. It was rare on his best friend’s face, that look of understanding. Like suddenly all the pieces had fallen into place. Stiles felt his stomach clench tight when Scott dropped the letter like he’d been burnt by it. His eyes searching the room in almost panic, desperate for a way to escape. Stiles sucked in a sharp breath and hung his head, his eyes closed and waiting, listening.

"I…I’ve got to go. Mom’s got the late shift and she wants me home."

Stiles nodded; his throat tight and tears burning at his eyes as he squeezed them tightly closed. He heard Scott rush out of his room and groaned.

Alone in his room Stiles dropped down on his bed, pulling his pillow beneath his head and arms, squeezing it tight as he buried his face in it. Scott was never going to talk to him again. Ten years of friends had been destroyed in a moment thanks to a letter from a guy he barely knew. Stiles clenched his eyes closed and shook his head. No, it wasn’t Derek’s fault; there had been nothing obvious in the letter, nothing that would draw attention to them. Scott had just….connected the dots. Probably a thousand and one things that Stiles had said or done finally making sense.

Not for the first time Stiles wished Derek wasn‘t a thousand miles away. Wished he could actually see his face, talk to him. But all he could do was write. Dragging himself off the chair he strolled over to his desk, glancing down at Derek last letter, inhaling the scent that was so faint.

 

_We’re being shipped out in two weeks. I don’t know what to do Stiles. I’m so scared. It didn’t feel real you know. It was all kind of a game and now its real and I’m leaving and all I can think about is how I might not get back. How I might never see you again and it scares me._

 

Stiles sucked in a breath and pulled out fresh sheet of paper.

 

**~Sterek: Travelling Solider~**

 

_Dear Wolf-man._

_Can you get leave before you go? Just a day? A few hours? I need to talk to you. Scott found your letter. He knows and he’s not happy. I think I might have lost my best friend Derek. I want to see you before you go. I can come there if I have to._

_Stiles_

　

**~Sterek: Travelling Solider~**

 

Stiles poured a fresh cup of coffee for Coach Finstock with his usual bright smile. "Anything else Coach."

"How about a fully functioning first line, Balinski. Can you get me that?"

Stiles chuckled. "Sorry Coach." he turned back to the kitchen and smiled as Scott handed over the plate of ham and eggs but his friend wouldn’t meet his gaze and Stiles sighed miserably.

Things had been strained between them for a week now; Scott refused to speak to him unless he had to, and wouldn’t look at him. His dad had asked what was going on and Stiles had been forced to lay the blame of their fight at Allison’s feet. He couldn’t exactly tell his dad the truth now could he? That would be stupid and reckless. About as reckless as leaving Derek’s letter out where anyone could see them.

He dropped the plate in front of Dr Deaton with his usual warm and welcoming smile, though he was pretty sure everyone knew it was forced. Then he glanced up at clock on the wall, sighing as the seconds counted down to the end of his shift. The diner door opened and Lydia strolled in, already dressed in her uniform, a bright charming smile spread across her lips. She was beautiful. He really wished the feelings he spent years telling everyone he had for her were real. It would make his life so much more simple. He’d at least have his best friend.

Stiles dropped off the coffee pot at the counter and bent to grab his jacket and bag from beneath, he glanced back at Scott, opening his mouth to speak only to slam it shut again and turned towards the door.

"You two still fighting?" Lydia asked quietly, trying her apron around her waist.

Stiles shrugged.

"Well get over it."

Stiles frowned. "What?"

"I’m sick of listening to Allison whine about how he’s being weird and won’t talk to her."

Stiles gaped. Scott hadn’t told Allison? Wow, he’d just assumed that she would have been his first port of call. He opened his mouth to respond but Lydia was already marching away, sending smiles out to everyone in the diner. Tightening his fingers around his bag strap he sent Scott a final look before turning and walking out of the door. He knew Lydia was right; he had to try and talk to Scott about…everything. Just not yet. He was already a wreck as it was. Counting down the day till Derek was shipped out to a war zone.

The sun was getting low, his dad was on the nightshift again which meant he’d be home alone, and without Scott to keep him company. Stiles had to admit that he’d actually pay to listen to his best friend talking about Allison endlessly. Hell, he’d even happily listening to his rants about the injustice of the war, if it meant Scott not hating him.

"Hey."

Stiles almost jumped out of his skin at the voice behind him, spinning around with his arms raised in defence, his eyes wide with panic and his heart racing. Then he focused and the fear fading into joy. "Derek? Derek!" he almost, very almost, threw himself at the guy. He felt his whole body jerk forward for a second before he remembered they were in the middle of Main Street, surrounded by people. "You’re here." he grinned.

Derek smiled, bright and wide, a row of perfect white teeth flashing in the dying sunlight. "I got twenty-four hour leave. We all did, it’s not like I’m special." he added.

Stiles grinned. "I don’t know about that."

The pair stood just staring at each other for a long moment.

"So are we just going to stand here until I have to catch my bus?" Derek chuckled.

"Right. Yeah…I mean no. We could…" Stiles eyes began to shift around them. "…go somewhere."

"I know just where I want to go." Derek nodded, walking straight past Stiles, his shoulder slightly bumping into him. "You coming?"

Stiles followed Derek along a familiar path, one they’d taken before months ago. His heart was racing and he could feel a strange buzz beneath his skin but he didn’t care. He couldn’t believe Derek was actually here. They got to the lake just as the sun was turning the whole sky orange. Stiles toed off his shoes and yanked off his socked while Derek dropped to his ass and began to tug at the laces of his boots. Then they took a seat on the pier, exactly as they had month before, and sat silently watching the water.

"So. You wanted to talk?" Derek said after thirty minutes of comfortable silence.

Stiles looked down at his hand, pulling then tight into his lap. "He saw your last letter." he whispered. "And well…I don’t know, I guess something just seemed to click in his head." Stiles lifted his gaze apologetically to meet Derek’s. "I didn’t mean for him to see it. I swear. I don’t know what I was thinking leaving it out on my desk. And then he read it and now he can’t look at him and won’t talk to me. He hates me. I know it. He thinks I’m a freak and disgusting and…" he shook his head. "…I’m just waiting for him to tell the team and then their going to beat me to hell. They’ve done it before. And no one will care because they’ll all think the same thing. ‘cause I’ll just be another fucking fag and who cares if I get killed." his heart was pounding, he couldn’t breath. His head spinning as the panic took hold.

And then it was gone. Because there was a strong warm hand on the back of his neck, a thumb rubbing soothing circles into his skin and Stiles eyes drifted closed. He lent into the touch with a soft noise that was part sigh, part moan.

"You’ll be fine. You’re dad’s the Sheriff remember."

Stiles shook his head. "That won’t matter if my dad finds out."

Derek looked at him, turning Stiles head to meet his gaze. He opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it closed unsure what to say.

"See. You know I'm going to get ki…."

Stiles sucked in a surprised breath as a pair of firm rough lips met his. His eyes widened, staring straight into Derek’s, until he succumbed and relaxed and let himself be kissed. Kissing back slowly. Derek wasn’t the first guy he’d kissed - When he’d first started having these feelings he’d experimented with Danny. Thank the lord for Danny. - but Stiles was pretty sure that Derek Hale would be the last. Because this was just…too perfect he didn’t think anyone ever could top it.

He lent into Derek, shifting closer. His right hand pressed against the wood of the pier while his left rested on Derek’s thigh, squeezing slightly as Derek nipped at his lower lip, before pressing his tongue to the seam, asking silently for access. And Stiles gave it, with a little pathetic moan he opened his mouth and felt his body explode as Derek surged forward. The hand on the back of Stiles neck tightened, his other hand lifting to cup at Stiles jaw.

As the kiss deepened, Stiles found his right hand brushing through Derek’s hair, what little there was of it. But it was enough to have sparks buzzing beneath the flesh of Stiles palm.

Stiles was semi aware that they shouldn’t be doing this, at least in public. That they could be seen, that this could end with them both being beaten to death and dropped into the lake never to be found. - But he couldn’t bring himself to care. It would be a hell of a way to go. Kissing Derek Hale. How he ended up on his back, Derek hovering above him, their bodies flush together Stiles had no idea. It felt like they’d been kissing for eternity when a breathless and flushed Derek pulled away, his lips red and swollen. Stiles knew his probably mirrored them. At least Derek had shaved, so he wouldn’t have to worry about friction burn.

Derek ran the pad of his thumb over Stiles lower lips and inhaled sharply. "I probably shouldn’t have done that." he whispered.

"Probably." Stiles nodded, still on his back, staring up into Derek’s green, almost black, eyes.

There was a moment of utter silence. Like the world had actually stopped turning.

"I don’t regret it though." Derek finally sighed.

Stiles grinned wide and bright, and just a little bit smugly. "Good. Because that was awesome."

Derek rolled his eye. Sitting up slowly he pulled Stiles up with him, till they were sat pressed hip to hip staring out at the water again.

"What are you going to do? About Scott?" Derek asked after a moment.

"I don’t know." Stiles shrugged sadly. "If I try and talk to him he might, you know, freak out and start yelling. Maybe it would be better to just leave it be. He hasn’t told Allison, so…maybe he’s going to keep it to himself."

Derek nodded. "I know its not easy. When someone finds out. Believe me."

Stiles turned to look at him with raised brows.

Derek dropped his eyes to his lap. "The fire. It was my fault."

"No it wasn’t."

"It was." he looked over at Stiles. "My girlfriend, Kate…she found out. She saw me with this guy."

Stiles shifted under the weight of his jealousy, dropping his eyes to the water. "Oh."

"She went crazy. I don’t think she planned to kill my whole family. I think….she was just after me."

"But you weren’t there." Stiles murmured.

"No. I was across town with…." he sent Stiles a side glance. "….a friend."

Stiles back straightened. "Oh. Right. - So…" he cut himself off, just staring at the water rippling beneath them.

"That’s why I ran away. I got my family killed and my uncle in a coma. I couldn’t face Laura, so I ran."

Stiles shook his head. "Scott’s not going to burn my house down." he said confidently. "I don’t think he’d resort to killing me."

Derek’s hand reached out for Stiles, squeezing it slightly. "Good. I don’t want you to die."

Stiles turned to meet his gaze. "I don’t want you to die either." he said desperately, sudden panic taking hold. He turned to face Derek fully. "Can’t you like skip town. Go to Canada or something? Don’t go out there Derek. I’ve seen the news. I know what’s going on."

"Believe me, I’m terrified." Derek said softly, his hand gripping Stiles neck once more. "But I’ve run away enough for one life time."

Stiles shook his head. "Just…don’t get killed, okay."

"I promise." Derek whispered, pressing a kiss to Stiles forehead. "I’ve got to go." he sighed, but made no move to separate himself from Stiles.

"You’re not leaving."

"I…" he groaned and finally pushed himself up off the pier and padded over to his boots.

Stiles waited a few moments, taking calming breaths, fighting back the pain and panic that threatened. Finally he got to his feet and strolled over to Derek, who was finishing tying his laces. He stood on the cooling grass watching as Derek tied the knot and got to his feet, straightening his jacket.

"You’ll keep writing, right?"

Derek nodded, closing the distance between them to palm his neck again.

"And you won’t get killed?"

Derek shook his head.

"You’re going to come back in one piece."

Derek met Stiles gaze, looking deeply into it as he whispered. "I’m coming back." the _to you_ , wasn’t needed.

Stiles sucked in a deep breath and nodded. "Then I guess you better get out of here, before they send someone to drag your wolf-ass back."

Derek smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes, as he lent forward and pressed a kiss to the teenager’s lips, before resting his forehead to Stiles. "I’ll see you in a year, okay."

Stiles nodded, squeezing his eyes closed tight and inhaling deeply, trying to cling onto the man’s scent. Finally Stiles gave into temptation and threw his arms around Derek’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug, which the soldier reciprocated, pressing his lips to Stiles temple.

After a few moments, Derek reluctantly pulled away, gave Stiles one last look before turning away. Stiles watching him leave with a heavy pain in his chest and tears in his eyes, and the unshakable feeling that this was the last time he was going to see Derek.

 

**~Sterek: Travelling Solider~**

 

Derek sat with his back pressed against his bunk; the heat bombarding his skin till it was blanketed in a thin layer of sweat. He’d been on patrol for three days and he was heading out on another in forty-eight hours. The rest of the unit were making good use of their down time but Derek had no desire to hit the cheap bars that surrounded the camp. He didn’t want to find some girl to distract him for a few hours. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift, taking him home. Back to a lake. Back to Stiles warm happy brown eyes, the brightness of his smile and the way his lips felt against Derek’s.

Sighing he sat up and pulled the small book he kept paper and envelopes in. Picking up his pen he focused on what to write. He’d been writing every week for almost four months. They never really said anything. There was a lot Derek couldn’t tell Stiles and even more he couldn’t risk saying. Stiles kept him informed about what was going on in his life. Scott apparently still hadn’t spoken to him, and it made Derek angry, cause from what Stiles had told him, Scott was more of a brother than a friend, and now just because he’d realized that Stiles wasn’t exactly your typical teenager, he’d turned his back on him. It had at least appeared that Scott had kept the revelation to himself. Which put Derek’s mind at ease just a little. He'd been worried about Stiles safety since leaving him beside the lake. He’d had nightmare where Kate had burnt the house down but only Stiles was inside.

Stiles instead of dwelling of the loss of his best friend had kept up a running commentary on the state of the diner, of how his coach might be dating the new chemistry teacher. How Lydia and Jackson had broken up and gotten back together three time since he’d left and each time brought a well of drama and theatrics to the town.

Derek didn’t have quiet as many interesting stories, being unable to tell Stiles what he was doing or where he was going. But he kept him up to date of the misadventures of his unit. How Boyd was playing footsy with one of the nurses called Erica. And how his Sgt was a scary ass son of a bitch who seemed to have it in for him.

The latest letter was no different.

 

**~Sterek: Travelling Solider~**

 

_Its been rough over here lately. Harder than at the beginning. The deeper we move the more resistance we’re facing. I don’t think I’m the only one feeling it. I see the same fear and worry pacing over Boyd’s face every now and then and that’s strangely reassuring. Like I’m not alone in this. At least I have an anchor, something to keep me focused when it gets to bad. I just think of that day down by the pier and how great it was. I can’t wait to get home and go back there. I’ve been thinking about the house a lot lately. Maybe pulling it down and building my own place there. You’d help me right? If I did that. If I chose to stay in Beacon Hills? I think its time to come home, you know._

_Well I’ve got to go, the guys are pouring in and its going to get hard to concentrate soon. I don’t want you to worry if you don’t hear from me for a while, ok._

_I’ll keep my promise._

_Derek._

 

Stiles sighed sadly, folding the letter and slipping in into his old text book, before turning to stare out of the window at the rain that looked like it was gearing up for a full blown storm. Wishing Derek was home now. He’d been watching the news more and more, and it wasn’t easing his anxiety. What made it worse was he had no one to talk to about it. No one to confide his fears to. He was alone while being surrounded by people.

 

**~Sterek: Travelling Solider~**

 

Stiles sat on the bench in his uniform preparing for the game. It was the state final; they’d made it, though no one quiet believed how, after Danny was injured two games before. But then Stiles had amazed everyone by getting the winning goal. He’d never seen his dad so proud of him in his life, even Scott had grinned and hugged him, before becoming weird again. The whole night was brilliant, but there would have been one thing that would have made it perfect. If Derek had been there to see it.

He hadn’t heard from his soldier in weeks and while Derek had told him not to worry, that’s all Stiles had been able to do. Lacrosse had become his only distraction and it had clearly worked wonders for the team but little for his nerves.

"Stiles?"

He turned to see his dad. "Hey Dad."

"I need to talk to you."

"Now?" Stiles frowned, looking around. "Can’t it wait till after the game?"

The Sheriff looked torn for a few moment but finally shook his head. "No." he nudged his head for Stiles to follow him.

"What is it dad?" Stiles asked as they stood off to the side.

The Sheriff looked at his feet, rolling his shoulder and clearing his throat more times that necessary. "I….just found out." he took a deep breath and finally met his son’s gaze. "It’s….Derek. - He’s….been killed."

Stiles felt the whole world tilt dramatically. Or maybe that was just him, because suddenly his dad’s hand on his arm, but Stiles couldn’t really feel it. He couldn’t feel anything. His hands, his feet or the ground beneath them. He couldn’t even feel the tears that were pooling in his eyes making it hard to focus. He couldn’t breathe either, his lungs had just stopped working, his heart wasn’t beating and yet it was pounding through his chest as if it wished to escape.

"Stiles?"

He didn’t hear his dad. He knew he was talking. Could almost see his lips moving but at the same time didn’t see anything. Didn’t hear anything. He took an unsteady step backwards. His legs were like Jell-O. They were going to collapse beneath him. He knew that, but strangely he kept walking. Increasing the distance between him and his dad.

He didn’t remember how he got beneath the stands, just that that’s where he was, crouched down beneath a dozen people, his head in his hands, shaking. His whole body was trembling with cold and pain. His hands were wet from the tears. Where he’d been unable to hear anything before now the voice of the principle seemed to scream in his ear. He heard the man finishing the Lord’s prayer.

"Now could we bow our head for a list of local Vietnam dead?"

Stiles heart pounded mercilessly against his ribs as slowly the names were read out. He heard the mumbles gasps and sniffled of the people above him.

"Thomas George…Dwayne Groves…"

Stiles sucked in a breathe, knowing the name that would be read next.

"…Derek Hale…"

Silence.

There was no pained gasp or sniffle of sorrowful tears. No one cared. No one but him. He ran his hands through his short hair, gripping hold of it tight as a sob ripped at his throat and chest. He rocked back and forth. His mind torturing him with the memory of bright green eyes, a silent scowl that hid beneath it a brilliant warm smile that could light up the world. Of lips that were gentle yet rough against his own. He kept crying, because there was nothing else to do. Because he was never going to love another guy. No matter how long he lived, there was going to be no one for him now. Because Derek had been the one.

Suddenly there were arms wrapped tight around him as he continued to rock. Stiles looked up, eyes red raw, face glistening in the dull lights from the field, to meet the pain, worry and sympathetic gaze of Scott. He swallowed and waited for his friend to pull away, to leave him with his pain. But Scott didn’t move.

"I’m sorry man." Scott whispered. "I’m so sorry."

Stiles sucked in a harsh broken breath and nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, anyone whose listened to the song knew how this was going to end right. Sorry. 
> 
> But....here's the thing, I hate killing characters, especially part of a ship so....does anyone want me to fix this ending? Cause I have one if you want it?
> 
> And just to confirm, it's two L's in Travelling in the UK.


	3. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so you all wanted the fix-it ending. Here it is. A short Epilogue.

Stiles stared down at the paper that announced the release of US prisoners of war with a heavy heart. It had all been for nothing. Pretty much the whole country had come to that conclusion. They’d lost fathers, sons, brothers…and in his case a lovers, for nothing. The war hadn’t been won, no matter what the government wanted them to believe. Vietnam wasn’t free. It had all been for nothing.

He’d lost faith with it all three years ago after Derek had been killed and while he didn’t exactly agree with Allison’s extreme views he had to admit she made a lot more sense than he’d originally given her credit for. Deep down he knew it was anger and spite and the pain of losing Derek, but he didn’t care. The war had torn out his heart leaving behind a large gaping wound. And while whoever was up there looking over him - Derek, he liked to think. - had given him a band-aid in the form of his best friend, it was never big enough to heal him completely.

High School had been kind easy strangely after Derek’s death, because he stopped caring. He kind of just stumbled his way through it in a daze. He’d stopped worrying about being found out because that was never going to happen, because he was never going to love anyone again.

He knew it was stupid. He knew deep down that someday he’d meet someone, but he’d never love them. Not like he’d loved Derek. And he had. As weird as it sounded considering they’d only really known each other six months or so, and in that time had only ever actually met twice face to face. He’d love him. Probably from the moment he’d looked over that diner counter and seen him looking awkward and shy and out of place.

Stiles glanced up as Scott strolled into their shared apartment with a handful of mail. They’d been living together since starting college with a little help from both their parents and their jobs. Neither had really wanted to live on campus.

"Can you believe this?"

Scott looked at the paper Stiles was waving at him and he shook his head before returning his attention to the post. Stiles grabbed his coffee mug and threw back his chair to storm over to the kitchen counter.

"Huh…Stiles."

"What?" he looked over his shoulder to see Scott looking at something in his hands. White as a sheet. "What is it?" he asked again, rushing forward in a panic. "What’s wrong? Is it Alli…." he trailed off as Scott held out an envelope to him. He glanced down at it and felt his heart leap into his throat at the all too familiar and deeply missed scribble on the front. He swallowed the lump that had suddenly started pounding in his throat. His hands shaking at his side before he raised them to take the letter. But they froze mid-air, like he couldn’t bring himself to touch it. His heart was racing out of control and he could swear that he was going to pass out.

A noise in the distant caught Scott’s attention but he didn’t move. He remained where he was just staring at his friend.

"Stiles?"

"I….I can’t…" Stiles shook his head. "I can’t…."

Scott nodded sympathetically, turning when the sound of knocking echoed once more. "I should get that. I’ll just put it here." he laid it down on the table top and turned to head for the door.

Stiles stared at the letter, taunting him from the table. Like a ghost sent to rip open old wounds. Why now? How was this fair? He stood just watching the thing for what felt like eternity, expecting to see it vanish. He reached out slowly, his hand visibly shaking as his fingers skimmed the paper, lifting it from the service of the table.

"Stiles."

He heard Scott’s voice behind him but couldn’t turn his attention away from the letter as it quivered in his fingers. Swallowing hard he tore at the envelope and gently, fearfully pulled out the letter inside. Unfolding it like he was scare it would bust into flames and vanish if he did it too quickly. His eyes adjusted to the familiar script but the only thing that jumped out of all of the blurred lines was one sentence.

 

_I’m coming home._

 

He let out a pain moaned and almost doubled over at the cruel joke the universe was playing on him.

"Stiles." Scott called again. But he was too caught up in the pain.

"Stiles?"

He froze. That wasn’t Scott. That voice wasn’t Scott’s voice. It was deeper, familiar. Stiles shook his head, sucking in a breath. Now he was hearing thing. His mind torturing him with what he wanted most in the world. Then there were hands on his shoulders. Heavy firm hands. And he closed his eyes, tears rolling down his face. He shook his head once again. There was breath against his ear and that voice again. His stomach dropped and he kept his eyes closed tight as he felt himself being turned, fearful of opening them and having it all be a dream.

There was a hand brushing against his cheek, rough, calloused and a shiver went through him.

"Stiles. Open your eyes."

"No." he whispered, shaking his head again.

"Please."

"I…I can’t…"

"Why?"

"Because I don’t want to. - I don’t want to open them and see your not really there." he swallowed.

Stiles tried to breathe past the pain in his chest and the dizziness in his head, and he was succeeding. At least until a set of lips brushed his, gently, fleeting.

"Open your eyes Stiles."

Slowly they fluttered open, tears rolling down his face as they did so. Then his eyes were wide and he was staring up into the familiar face. A little older, a little more broken, but familiar all the same. "D-Derek." he choked as he threw himself at the older man, squeezing tight. "You kept your promise." he whispered breathlessly.

"I said I would."

 

**THE END.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your wonderful feed back, it's greatly appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I hope that was alright...like I said, I'll try and get the second part up tomorrow. Fingers crossed. 
> 
> I'm sure your really confused about Stiles name... well its my sudden head-canon, I know everyone else is on the Genim or whatever thing but I thought wouldn't it be cool if Stiles real name translated to Full Moon. And it's the reason Derek and Stiles have that weird connection and why Stiles seems to bring out the worst in Derek sometime. I thought it was kinda poetic and Badr was the only name I could find that meant full moon, and we know nothing about Stiles mom so she could totally have Arabic connections right, and the name was her father's. So...that's my head-canon, Stiles Stilinski's real name is Badr Stilinski. - Arabic unisex name meaning Full Moon: http://www.20000-names.com/moon_names.htm


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